Enter Sandman
by St. Minority
Summary: Wonka tells Charlie a bedtime story and The Sandman comes to awaken Charlie in an unexpected way. AN: This took a different turn than what I had planned.
1. The Tale

Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate factory, nor the characters, basically anything. All belong to Dahl, Burton, etc.

A/N: Based off of the 2005 movie "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." Also, loosely based off of Metallica's "Enter Sandman" song; lyrics incorporated in the dialogue.

This will be just two chapters. This first one is quite tame. Give it a read.

All reviews welcomed and incouraged.

* * *

A lean flame appeared in the moonlight. It was pressed against the end of the thin device held between ruby lips. An inhale and the lighter was extinguished.

Willy Wonka lowered his eyelids to slits as he breathed deep the sweetness. He was enjoying one of his recent new inventions that he named a chocolate cigarette. With each intake it gave off a new flavor onto the tongue; ranging from peppermint, dark chocolate, white chocolate, strawberry, almonds, and many other tastes. The smoke emitting from the end and what was breathed in was not harmful in any way. It was to be used as a snack between meals, and not only was it a delicious treat, but Wonka also had the idea that it could help smokers seeking to kick their habit with tobacco. The product would be going on the market soon, and he predicted there would be slight uproar from concerned parents. If they were forbidden by parents, he knew the kids would be smart and rebel. How could they deny a new candy from the greatest candy maker in the world? There was nothing like being told not to do something and do it anyway just to spite others. He knew that from experience.

Charlie Bucket watched his mentor from his bed. He gazed at the man with extreme admiration, veneration, and friendliness. Ever since his family had passed away in what was declared a "freak accident" in one of the factory rooms, Wonka had made sure that the boy rarely left his sight. Charlie tried to push the memory of his loved ones aside and grow accustomed to his new provider. He understood Wonka cared for him, but there was always some other emotion shielded behind the candy man's eyes that at times unnerved Charlie. The innocence still contained within Charlie, however, always let it pass, and he never dwelled on the mysterious glint for too long.

The bright beams of the moon were the only illumination in the dark. Wonka stared out the window he sat next to and took a lengthy drag from his cigarette. When he exhaled, a very light brown colored smoke came out from his mouth, filling the area around him with the scent of caramel. Charlie loved observing the chocolatier when he smoked each night in his bedroom. It had become tradition for Wonka to occupy the lad's room for varying periods of time before Charlie fell asleep. It was a comfort to the young child to have him near, occasionally reciting stories, and say good night.

"Did I ever tell you about the Sandman, Charlie?" Wonka asked quietly, brown wisps escaping through his lips as he talked.

Charlie smiled, and although Wonka _had_ told him the story, he humored the eccentric chocolatier's lack of a good memory and replied, "No, you haven't."

Wonka's eyes shifted from looking upon the outside world to Charlie's angelic face. "I _haven't!_ Well! I guess it's story time, isn't it?"

Charlie giggled from the enthusiasm in the man's voice. Wonka turned himself completely around and leaned back against the glass of the window. A long inhale, followed by a long release of the breath, Wonka appeared to be gathering the tale in his head. Charlie always thought he looked calmer and subdued when he had a chocolate cigarette.

"The Sandman," Wonka started, "Is someone who brings dreams to all little girls and little boys. He comes into your room at night and pinches a bit of chocolate dust between his fingers from the small bag at his waist and-" Wonka got up, puffing still on his treat, and moved to sit in front of Charlie on the bed. "-He sprinkles the dust onto your closed eyes-" Wonka rubbed his forefinger and thumb together above Charlie's face to demonstrate. Charlie shut his eyes to play along. "-and sings the words, 'Exit light. Enter night. Take my hand. We're off to never-Never Land."

Charlie reopened his eyes and waited expectantly for Wonka to continue.

"The dust and words are most important. Together they wake up the dreams and stimulate the body in unknown ways, sort of like chocolate. Of course, the dreams aren't always good ones. It depends on if he's feeling generous or not. Indeed, he can get a bit mischievous." Wonka grinned madly, his lilac orbs tainted with a glint of excitement.

"But Mr. Wonka, the dreams can't be too terrible, can they?"

"Oh my dear boy, of course they can! The imagination is a very vivid tool that can conjure up all sorts of images! The Sandman controls these aspects at night. You'll know if you caught him on a good round; you'll be rewarded with good dreams. If you have nightmares, you can be quite sure he was feeling icky or just wanted to have a bit of fun."

Charlie breathed deep the pleasant smell of the smoke as Wonka expelled it from his "O" shaped lips.

"What does the dust do?" he inquired politely.

"Huh?" Wonka obviously had not heard the question.

"The chocolate dust; what does it do?"

"Oh! It makes it so that you take off in a tremendously deep sleep. You won't wake up from anything. Your dreams will seem _so _real." His white teeth sparkled in the light as he smiled broadly for a second.

"Now then, you should be getting ready to sleep."

He stood, held his cigarette securely between his lips, and began packing the covers around and underneath Charlie firmly in order to hold him in tightly.

"Why so snug?" Charlie asked gently.

"As they say: 'Tuck you in, warm within. Keep you safe from sin. 'Till the sandman he comes'."

Wonka finished, grasped his treat between his fingers, and kissed the boy softly on the forehead. He brushed his latex gloved hand against the spot a few times and whispered, "Good night, Charlie."

Charlie giggled from the warmness of the smoke tickling against his skin. "Good night, Mr. Wonka."

Wonka stepped to the doorway and retrieved his top hat and cane. He was about to leave, but stopped and turned back to Charlie.

"Don't forget: Say your prayers, little one, don't forget to include everyone."

"I won't," Charlie replied with a smile. Wonka said that to him every night.

"Kay."

Wonka exited, closing the door behind him. He paused for a moment, mind racing and heart beginning to beat quicker. A quiet, amusing sound came from him, and he headed towards his quarters.

Heavy thoughts to begin the night.

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A/N: Please take a second and review. 


	2. The Sandman

A/N: Big thanks goes out to all of the reviewers for the last part. It's been awhile, but I hope that you'll read this part, even if it may not be your cup of tea. It is the final part.

Warning: This part does contain slash/chan and a bit of masturbation. But I hope you will read and give it a try.

As always: Characters aren't mine and the rhymes/lyrics are from Metallica's song "Enter Sandman"

Please review with comments. They are appreciated.

* * *

There was no indication to provide the information that anyone was in the room with the boy except for a wispy brown smoke that seeped from the far end corner of the area. It filled the space with the scent of sweetened almonds and pecans.

With expert agility, Willy Wonka left the corner and crept to the bed without making a sound. His garb was entirely black, matching the darkness of the room fittingly. The shirt he wore had a plunging neckline that went to just above his navel. The sleeves were like wings that hung beneath outstretched arms, marvelously flowing to provide a state of elegance to the man that wore it. His slacks were silk and a bit large around his legs, his feet were bare, and his hands were clad in black gloves.

Moonlight showered through the window. It cascaded stunningly into the room and illuminated the sleeping child on the bed. Wonka's lilac eyes glowed in the light. He pinched his fingers together and glittery dust sprinkled down onto Charlie's closed eyelids. As he did, he sang intensely quietly the words "Exit light. Enter night. Take my hand. We're off to never-Never Land."

He took Charlie's hand in his and watched the lad eagerly with anticipation. The change was very subtle, but Wonka caught it. Charlie's features relaxed ever so slightly, causing the chocolatier to know that his young heir had slipped away into a much deeper sleep.

Wonka pulled the covers back and sat beside the boy. He guided the boy's petite hand to his cheek, then to his lips to kiss it. A finger inserted itself into his mouth. Wonka sucked it and flicked his tongue at it. He wanted a taste of Charlie's pure, untouched, virgin skin.

Wonka situated himself to lie on Charlie before snapping his fingers. His body rose up to hover a bit above the child. He was a magician after all; he had mastered the unexplained art of levitation. Scarlet lips found their way to Charlie's face. They traced along the lad's jaw line with delicate attention. The feel of the soft flesh shot tingles through Wonka. His mouth discovered Charlie's, and he kissed his heir with deep affection, want, and an insatiable hunger.

Charlie made a noise; music to the mentor's ears. Wonka grinned madly. He caressed Charlie's face with his fingertips before lowering himself to sit on the bed. He lifted the little being up and rested the boy against him. He took off the lad's shirt slowly. Fingertips ran along Charlie's back. Wonka rubbed his face in the youngster's hair and breathed deeply.

"Willy," Charlie whispered innocently, but with a hint of enjoyment.

Wonka was taken aback for a brief moment. His mind quickly mended itself as he pondered how he could have so easily forgotten that fact. Even though Charlie was asleep, he could nonetheless feel the actions performed on him and see what was taking place in his "dream" as if he was wide awake.

Wonka lay Charlie's heavy dormant form down with gentle care. He wanted to continue his exploration. Calmly, he removed Charlie's pants and underwear. Laid out before him, exuding perfection, righteousness, and simplicity, was little Charlie Bucket in utter nakedness.

"Keep you free from sin," Wonka muttered. "Till the Sandman he comes."

His mouth demanded a real tasting, inspiration some called it, as he sought out creativeness for new candies using the boy's body.

Moving down Charlie's form, he situated himself between the small legs of the boy and drew his heir's full length into his oral cavity. A flexible tongue wrapped around the body part to lick before Wonka proceeded to suck fervently. The sensation was astonishing to the chocolatier. He did not expect to feel so unbelievably fantastic as he committed the act. Apparently he was not the only one to take satisfaction from it. Charlie emitted a breathy whimper and continued to do so with increasing loudness. Wonka glanced up at the lad's face. It was contorted into an expression of immense pleasure and stress as he became firm within his caretaker's mouth. Wonka closed his eyes and started to moan quietly with the child. He could not help grinning wickedly as he heard his name escape Charlie's lips several times. A low groan came from his own when thin fingers buried themselves in his chestnut hair. He was becoming hard himself from the whole situation.

Charlie's little hips bucked a couple of times before finally he succumbed and ejaculated into Wonka's throat. Wonka swallowed every drop he could and licked around the tip to get any that he missed. To his content surprise, the boy tasted sweet and flavorful. That had obviously been due to living in the factory. Otherwise, Wonka knew from personal experience that the fluid would have tasted salty and not very good at all.

He pulled away and gazed down at Charlie's easing features. He brushed the youngster's hair back and kissed him passionately. Charlie's hands went blindly beneath Wonka's shirt and traveled up the candy man's abdomen to his chest and then to his back. Wonka's moan evaporated in Charlie's mouth. The little boy clung to him, and it tempted Wonka to go farther with the whole thing, but he resisted the strong urge. He at last came away from Charlie and rested beside him. Charlie squirmed, wanting to be touched again. Each of them was breathing rather heavily.

Wonka was still quite erect. Before tending to his needs, he lit a chocolate cigarette and puffed it a few times; expelling the smoke from between his smooth lips. He then inched one hand beneath his clothing and went to work. His neck arched as he fondled and groped his own manhood. His heart rate sped; his arousal was engorged and began to leak. He took quicker drags from the cigarette as his climax neared. Sounds erupted from him. Charlie listened in his sleep, his own breath growing ragged with Wonka's.

With a yell and shudder, Wonka spilled his seed freely. His chest heaved and he smoked his lit treat intimately to sedate himself. He stared up at the ceiling, taking turns exhaling the smoke from his mouth and nose. The moonlight bathed him ethereally.

Trembling, he got up and covered Charlie with the sheets. He tucked him in tightly and whispered, "Hush little baby, don't say a word. And never mind that noise you heard."

He departed like a feared black cat and with an abundant amount of new ideas for candies floating in his head. The only trace he left of his presence was the delicious fragrance of melted chocolate and cinnamon.

* * *

Charlie scampered onto Wonka's bed and forced his way into the man's arms. Wonka uttered something before opening his eyes. Charlie was fully clothed and clearly shaken. 

"What time is it?" Wonka grumbled.

"Four-thirty," Charlie said in a slightly quivering voice. "I had a…..a dream, Mr. Wonka."

"Oh really?" Wonka was inwardly amused. "Was it a nightmare? Dream of war?"

"No."

"Dream of liars?"

"No."

"Dream of dragon's fire?"

"No, sir.

"But it wasn't of Snow White."

"No."

"Then what was it?"

"It was about _you_." He was undoubtedly embarrassed.

Wonka smiled and his teeth glinted dangerously, yet charmingly. "What happened in this dream?"

"I…..I don't want to say. You'll think I'm…..weird."

"Of course not, Charlie. That's poppycock."

Charlie fidgeted and avoided Wonka's eyes. "You were touching me."

"Mmm, how?"

The child motioned with his hands. "Down there. And you kissed me……And I….I liked it."

Wonka's smile broadened. "I see."

"You don't think it's gross, do you?"

"It's completely natural. _Every_one has those kinds of dreams."

"Really?"

"Really. Cross my heart. You must have been extra nice these past few days to have the Sandman give you a dream like that. He seems to be a bit naughty as of late."

"Is the Sandman real?"

"Of course he's real! How else do you experience dreams?"

"Do you know the Sandman, Mr. Wonka?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. But he likes to keep a _very _low profile. You'll just have to keep up the good behavior to have him come again!"

"I will." Charlie hesitated before he asked, "Can I stay the rest of the night here?"

"Course you can."

Charlie moved to rest on his side. As soon as Wonka finished the phrase "Sleep with one eye open," he was dreaming once more.

Wonka, however, would not get any sleep that night. He lit another cigarette and giggled.

"We're off to never-Never Land."

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A/N: Please review. Thank you! 


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